Little Peeta
by LaraCroftTR65
Summary: Little 5 year old Peeta just wants to pretend to be a spy, but accidentally ends up watching the Hunger Games and becomes terrified. But his oldest brother Appam knows exactly how to take care of his baby brother


Peeta lay on the floor in his room, all alone. He was spread out in the shape of a star and stared at the ceiling, bored. He sighed.

He clicked his tongue and the echo caught his attention. He did it again.

'Wow,' he laughed, making the clicking sound over and over, giggling at the sound reverberating around the empty room. It sounded like there were a hundred of him!

He stopped clicking, and the hundred Peetas vanished and he was alone again. He groaned.

'It's not fair,' he complained to no one in particular. 'This is so boooooring,' he dragged the word out.

'Just 'cuz I'm only five, I can't help in the bakery. I could work in the bakery. I'm 'sponsble. I could make a big cake for daddy, taller than the ceiling!' he shouted, throwing his hands up and then giggling again, rolling around on the floor.

Peeta lay on his stomach and kicked the floor rhythmically.

Then he had a great idea.

'I could be a spy!' he yelled in amazement. Rye had told him all about the Capitol spies in the Dark Days and Peeta thought it sounded cool. He could do it; it was easy. Peeta jumped up and sneaked to his door. Carefully, he peered around the door.

'The coast is clear,' Peeta muttered under his breath. He didn't understand what it meant but Rye had told him spies say it when there's no one there. He wondered what a coast was as he tiptoed to the top of the stairs. To avoid the stairs creaking, Peeta sat down and bumped down the stairs on his bottom. He crept along the walls to the main room with the tv. He peered around the door and was disappointed when no one was in there. How was he supposed to spy on someone if there was no one here to spy on?

He scrunched his mouth to the side and shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking to floor disappointedly.

A man's voice drifted out quietly from the main room.

Peeta's head jolted up and his eyes widened. There was someone in the house. There was someone in that room. But there had been no one there when he had looked in. Peeta's mouth dropped open and he gasped as he came to the only logical conclusion.

There was a ghost in the house. Peeta stood in the hall, unsure of what to do. Should he go in and meet the ghost? He didn't really like that idea; ghosts could be really scary.

He asked himself what Rye would say if he told him there was a ghost in the house and that he was afraid of it. Rye would laugh at him, call him a scaredy cat. Peeta's jaw clenched angrily. He wasn't a scaredy cat! He would show Rye!

He stomped to the door and pushed it open a little, listening for the voice again.

'He-hello?' Peeta called out nervously.

'Hello Caesar,' the voice replied.

'Caesar?' Peeta's brow scrunched in confusion. 'I'm not Caesar,' he giggled. 'I'm Peeta, silly.' He stepped into the room and looked around.

There was nothing there.

'Hello? Mr ghost?' Peeta called.

The voice appeared to his right. 'So what do you think of the tributes this year?'

Peeta whirled around and fell onto the floor. He scuttled back a few steps and looked towards where the voice had come from.

He laughed as he looked at his ghost. Someone had left the television on. Peeta grinned and watched the show that was on. He had never seen it before. Then again, he had hardly ever seen anything on tv. This was a rare treat.

He sat on the floor, cross-legged, his eyes as wide as saucers and glued to the screen. He didn't really understand what was happening. The person with funny red hair kept talking to a person with green hair about tributes. But Peeta wasn't paying much attention. He was too busy laughing at the funny looking people. Then the funny people disappeared and were replaced by a woman with pink curly hair. Peeta thought she looked like a cloud and giggled again. She picked lots of different names out a bowl and kids joined her on the stage.

'This is a weird show,' Peeta thought rocking back and forth on the floor. Then everyone disappeared and a huge forest appeared.

'Where'd they all go?' Peeta exclaimed.

'Now for the best part,' a woman with whiskers and rainbow coloured hair babbled. 'The highlights from last year's games.'

'Games?' Peeta repeated, confused. 'They must be playing hide and seek in that big forest!' His eyes widened in excitement. 'I want to play!' he yelled, bouncing restlessly.

'Ladies and gentlemen, let the sixty second Hunger Games begin!' A voice boomed over the arena.

There were a lot of kids standing in a circle around a big gold thing that Peeta had never seen before. He watched eagerly as some ran into the forest to hide. Although some of them didn't seem to know how to play hide and seek. They were running to the big gold thing.

'That must be like den,' Peeta thought, tapping his feet off the floor absent-mindedly.

But then something strange happened. A girl reached the middle and picked up a knife.

'They're not very good at this game. Go and hide,' Peeta told the girl in the screen. But she stayed where she was. As another boy approached, she screamed and plunged the knife into his throat. He immediately dropped to the ground and made strange choking noises as blood pooled below him. Within seconds he was dead.

Peeta let out a strangled cry and pushed himself against the wall, as far as possible from the television. He hugged his knees to his chest as a stream of terrified whines left his mouth. He watched as child after child was brutally murdered, mostly by each other, but sometimes by mutts or other traps, until there was only that girl left. Then the voice boomed again saying, 'Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the sixty second Hunger Games, Enobaria -'

Appam burst in through the door and Peeta jumped. He buried his face into his knees, trying to block out everything he had just witnessed. Appam heard him shout and ran over to where Peeta was huddled against the wall.

'Peeta! Peeta, what is it? What's wrong?' Appam blurted out.

Peeta pointed a shaky hand at the television and stared at it with terrified eyes.

Appam turned and frowned as he saw the beginning of last year's Victory Tour. He turned to Peeta again slowly, shell-shocked as he realised why his youngest brother was crying in a corner.

'Peeta,' Appam said gently. 'Did you see the Games?'

Peeta nodded and took a shaky breath as he tried not to cry.

'Damn it,' Appam whispered, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. They had tried to keep this reality from Peeta for as long as possible, but it was inevitable that he found out. But Appam would have liked him to older than five. Five was too innocent an age to learn about murder. Appam himself had only learned about the Hunger Games a few years ago and that was because this summer he was finally eligible to take part. Rye, the middle son, still didn't know either and poor baby Peeta definitely shouldn't have been exposed to this mindless violence.

'Peeta, it's okay. Shhhhh,' Appam hugged him comfortingly, stroking his baby brother's curly hair. Peeta cowered into his oldest brother, clutching tightly to his shirt.

'Ap-Appam,' Peeta sniffed.

'Shhhhh,' Appam comforted him. 'It's all right. You're okay. You don't have to be scared Peeta. It won't happen to you.'

'Yet anyway,' Appam thought darkly, suddenly furious that the Capitol could potentially make his little, innocent, defenceless brother fight to the death one day. It could happen in just seven years. And Appam himself might not even be around that long if he got reaped in between times.

'Hey, I've got an idea Peeta,' Appam nudged the little boy curled up in his lap. 'Why don't we play a game?'

Peeta lifted his head and sniffed.

'What kind of game?' he asked curiously.

'Any game you want,' Appam replied, smiling.

'Hmmmmm,' Peeta mused. 'Let's play...chasies! You're it!' He yelled, hitting Appam on the shoulder and launching himself from his brother's lap.

'I'm going to get you,' Appam said in mock threat, tapping the ground and pretending to crawl after Peeta. Peeta shrieked and ran out of the room.

Appam laughed and pulled himself to his feet, chasing his little brother out into the garden. He loved the way Peeta's hair bounced as he ran. Appam allowed Peeta to run in circles for a few minutes before grabbing him from behind and throwing him into the air.

Peeta screamed delightedly as he flew, spreading his arms just to pretend he really could fly. He fell back into Appam's arms and demanded, 'Again! Again!'

Appam chuckled and launched Peeta into the air again. Peeta shrieked with laughter again. His brother caught him and began spinning him around, faster and faster, until they collapsed in a giggling heap in the garden.

Appam played with Peeta all day, trying to keep his mind from the horrific images of the games. It was easy to distract him during the day, but everything changed when night fell.

They had all been in bed for a few hours and everyone was asleep. Or at least, they had been. Little Peeta awoke with a fright after having a nightmare about Enobaria. He sat up in bed, breathing heavily, staring into the darkness. She could be hiding among the shadows. She could be anywhere. Tears of fear began to stream down Peeta's tiny face. He looked over to his left to where his two brothers lay in their beds.

He glanced across to the other side of the room where his parents lay, hoping he hadn't wakened them. He could just make out two figures lying under the duvet. Peeta rubbed his eyes and clutched his blanket to his chin. Slowly, he crept out from under his shelter, across the floor to Appam's bed. Standing in front of his brother's sleeping face, Peeta whispered, 'Appam.'

A sleepy groan was his only response.

'Appam,' Peeta tried again, becoming very aware that he was standing defenceless among the shadows where she could be waiting for him. 'Appam,' Peeta whispered desperately, shaking his brother's shoulder.

Appam rubbed his eyes tiredly and stared blearily at the tiny black shadow facing him.

'Peeta,' he squinted into the darkness.

A tiny sob shuddered through Peeta's body and Appam held out his arms to his baby brother. Peeta climbed up into his bed and clung to him, sobbing quietly.

'Hey Peeta, what's wrong?' Appam asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

'I-I-I ha-had a bad dr-dream,' Peeta stuttered, crying.

'Hey, hey, it's all right Peeta,' Appam reassured him. 'It's only a dream. It can't hurt you.'

'Bu-but what if she's hid-hiding on me?' Peeta asked.

'Peeta, it's just a dream,' he repeated.

'But she's really real,' he whispered.

'Peeta it's all right. I know what you saw was horrible, but Enobaria isn't coming for you. She isn't coming for anyone, okay?'

Peeta watched his brother unsurely and then nodded, his curls bobbing. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

'Do you want to stay with me tonight?' Appam asked gently.

'Mmmhmm,' Peeta nodded.

Appam cuddled Peeta close and lay down again. After a few seconds, Peeta's tiny voice broke the quiet.

'Appam?' He asked nervously.

'Yeah bud?'

'Can you tell me a story?'

'A story? You want a story?'

'Yeah.'

'What story?'

'The story,' Peeta replied.

'What one?' Appam asked, teasing him.

'The story! You know what one I mean.'

'Why don't you tell it? You know it off by heart.'

'Nooooooo,' Peeta protested. 'I can't tell it right.'

'Okay, okay.' Appam hauled himself back up again and put his arm around Peeta's shoulders. 'But you have to go to sleep after, deal?'

'Deal,' Peeta whispered excitedly.

'One upon a time, there was a brave baker and his wife. The baker and his wife already had two sons -,'

'But they wanted another!' Peeta interrupted.

'That's right,' Appam congratulated him. 'So the baker, that's dad, went into his garden and planted a tree. And the tree grew big and strong and there, hanging in a basket in the tree was -'

'Me!' Peeta smiled proudly.

'Yup,' Appam grinned. 'And so dad took you inside and mother was delighted at having another son.' Appam wasn't so sure this was the case but he would never say so. Especially not to Peeta. He couldn't bear to watch his little heart break.

'And that's why there's a tree in our garden, right?' Peeta asked, even though he already knew the answer.

'You've got it. And so, every day, the baker and his wife played with their youngest son and they fed him well and gave him cookies and chocolate and they loved him very much.'

Peeta's eyes were full of wonder and it pained Appam that this was only a story. How his mother couldn't live Peeta's tiny face was beyond him. Everyone else just adored him.

'And every night, they would tell their little boy that he was the most important thing to them and they loved him very much. And they would ask how much he loved them and he would say -'

'This much!' Peeta whispered loudly, flinging his arms out as wide as he could.

'And they would laugh and they'd tickle you,' Appam beamed, tickling Peeta under his outstretched arm, making him squirm.

'And you'd laugh too. And then you would fall asleep and dream about happy things.'

Peeta yawned. 'I like that story,' he muttered, his eyelids drooping.

'Me too,' Appam sighed, gently laying Peeta's head down on the pillow.

'Appam?' Peeta whispered, barely awake.

'Yeah?'

'I love you,' he sighed, grabbing his brother's hand.

Appam stopped. His heart swelled as he watched his baby brother breathing contentedly.

'I love you too,' he whispered, planting a kiss on Peeta's head.

But Peeta was already asleep.


End file.
